Lucky in Love (Cowboys & Angels Book 2)

by Jo Noelle

  He jerked his bag from the porch and turned for the road.

  Julianne wished she could laugh out loud, but given the other circumstances, she withheld. The anxiety she’d felt from long before she came to Colorado released as she watched him walk out of her life. That was the second-best thing to have happened since the brawl. The memory of Hugh desperately fighting to reach her flashed through her mind—that was the first.

  Chapter 15

  Hugh Fontaine

  Hugh strangled the wooden handle of the broom as he violently whisked sawdust from one corner of his saloon that had been used to cover and soak up the spilled alcohol from last night’s business. Sales had boomed the past two days—it always did after payday. The miners had kept a steady stream into, and then a staggering stream out of, his saloon.

  That was the same number of days it had rained, making a slick, muddy mess of every road and path. No matter how his customers arrived, they trailed half a pound of mud with them that dried and fell to the floor. He’d hardly stopped serving liquor to clean up, and now that he put his hand to it, it was filth on filth.

  He was happy to have the work, welcoming anything that would keep his mind off Julianne.

  More dust became airborne with each swipe until he began to sneeze. He decided it was best to walk outside and let his lungs and the room clear before he tried again.

  Once outside, he leaned his elbows on the hitching post. It wasn’t long ago that Hugh had a firm grasp on his future. He could have recited it in his sleep. And when he did, he would not have mentioned the wild card he’d been dealt on the road to Bachelor.

  Business was great--lucrative, even—but Hugh felt little joy. In fact, he was a tad ashamed of himself as he’d slipped another sleeve of silver dollars into his hiding place the night before. He had reached his goal with enough money and then some to begin building another saloon, but he realized that over the last month, his dream had shifted.

  And this new one was an impossible dream.

  Men like Hugh didn’t have wives who admired their husbands. They also didn’t have homes with feminine touches like delicate blue hurricane lamps, floral woolen carpets, and tatted doilies sewn onto pillows. For the first time in his life, he hungered for all of those things.

  No, that would be someone else’s house. He shook his head to banish the pictures of domestic bliss his mind had conjured up. The dream faded, but didn’t disappear. Julianne stood firmly in his mind’s eye in a yellow calico dress. She carried a basket of vegetables from her garden with one hand while the other hand caressed the curls on top of a shy toddler who hugged the back of her skirt and peeked around her knees.

  He figured the dust had settled enough by now. This is my life. It’s best to leave those other dreams to other men. That was a lie, but one he chose to live with. He went to work sweeping that lie and his fantasy out the back door.

  The door swung open, creaking on its hinges. Heavy footsteps clicked across the floorboards along with the whisper of dust under them. He kept sweeping, ignoring whoever came inside.

  Without turning around, he barked out, “We’re all out of whiskey until tomorrow.”

  “Well, gambler, I didn’t come here to rot my gut, just to see what you’re doing with the life you were given a month ago.”

  Hugh knew that voice—the old cowpoke—and he didn’t want to talk with him. He also didn’t know what he was doing with his life, so there wasn’t anything to say.

  Why had his life been spared that afternoon when two others’ hadn’t? He didn’t believe that he was saved to meet a woman, fall in love with her, and have his heart crushed, but it had happened that way just the same.

  He steeled his nerves and faced the cowpoke. “My life? Same as always. I’m running a business.”

  The old wrangler stared across the room, his gaze burning into Hugh’s eyes. “You need to get this figured out ’cause I’m running out of time, and you’re running out of hope.” The cowpoke’s hand slapped the wooden bar and left behind a single playing card.

  With that, the cowboy replaced his hat on his head, spun around, spurs jingling, and left through the doorway without another word.

  Hugh stood rooted in place for a long moment, debating whether to look at the card. He stepped closer. With a quick pinch, he flipped the card over, revealing the ace of spades, remembering the angel’s words. Hugh had to choose.

  He turned the card over again and studied the dove. Maybe there was a choice—someday. He’d have to think on it. He tucked the ace into his pocket.

  Julianne. Hugh thought he’d already chosen to stay away from her, but he realized that confusion still clouded his mind. It’s not a decision if I’m still debating it.

  Maybe Reverend Bing would help him know what to do. A spark of hope lit in his chest. He’d visit Callum as soon as Julianne and her parents left town. He just had to avoid her until then. It shouldn’t be too hard—she’d never come to his business and he’d never go to church.

  A small knock called Hugh’s attention across the room as Willie walked through the door. “It must be payday,” Hugh called out, glad for the diversion.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hugh reached into his pocket and gave the boy a silver dollar. It was a small price to pay to keep that child out of the mines where his father had died. It wasn’t charity either. Willie worked for his pay.

  “Thank you.” With his other hand, Willie passed Hugh a piece of paper. “The clerk down to the mercantile sent this bill. He charged your account and says to come get your order.”

  Hugh took the invoice. “One box of school primers,” he read aloud. His fingers raked through his hair. Not two minutes ago, he had a simple plan to avoid Julianne. Apparently, Hugh would be seeing her after all. He chided himself. It seemed like he couldn’t make a decision stick at all when it came to that pretty little gal.

  Then to Willie, he said, “Can you take my horse and go down to pick it up? The books’ll fit in the saddle bags once you get them out of the shipping box.”

  “Yes, sir, I could, but it’s my payday. I need to fetch some stores for my ma.”

  “Take the wagon. You can just leave the books crated, then. Better hurry or the mercantile will be closed.” Although he knew it wouldn’t be. In the back of Hugh’s mind, he kind of hoped it was, then he could put off seeing Julianne a while longer.

  At least then I could wait until tomorrow to break my heart again.

  Willie and his buckboard had barely disappeared around the bend to leave town when a man called a hello. Hugh looked up and recognized him as the man who’d been with Julianne’s parents yesterday after the brawl. He stopped a good ten feet away from Hugh.

  “If you love her, you’ll want what’s best for her,” the man said.

  Hugh was confused by the strange message and the brass of the messenger. The man certainly referred to Julianne, but Hugh didn’t know what made her the man’s business. He considered ignoring the interruption and returning to his work. He had plenty to do without stirring more misery into the day.

  When Hugh didn’t answer, the man added, “Someday you’ll walk out of her life. Maybe you already have. She’ll figure that out and then marry me. Her being a Christian woman is enough to build our marriage on. She’s confused now, but she’ll give up on this town. Julianne simply needs a firm hand to guide her.”

  Hugh looked at the smug man, whose chin tipped up defiantly, and then walked within a couple feet of him. He could see a little fear light the man’s eyes as he shifted his weight.

  The long pause was broken when Hugh replied, “If you believe any of that, you don’t know Julianne at all.”

  Chapter 16

  Julianne Parker

  Four wooden pews lined up one behind the other like soldiers marching in a parade. Julianne had wanted the first day of school to be perfect, and wondered if she should have waited until everything was ready before starting—desks and chairs, books, slates and chalk. All of that might have
moved back the starting date for classes. Maybe she should have a least waited until the wound on her face healed, and she looked more respectable.

  She shook off her worry. Mankind might judge her for any one of those things, but the Lord looked upon the heart. It would be fine.

  A few parents with children in tow stepped into the church. They clustered near the door, the children shy, and the parents wary.

  “Please come in.” She gestured toward the benches in the middle of the floor. “Sit …anywhere. We’ll start soon.”

  Julianne felt as nervous as bees buzzing through her veins. What had possessed her to begin a school without books or slates? She was wholly unprepared.

  She calmed herself with a deep breath. They’d spend some time getting to know each other, counting with rocks, and learning to sing the alphabet. Everything will be fine. I can do this.

  As more families arrived, the women she knew from church gave her hugs and sat with their children to wait. It warmed her through. These people cared for her as much as she cared for them. Together, they would make a school.

  Just as she decided to start, Ruby entered the church, stick in hand. “I’m here for my writing lesson.” She ran to Julianne and hugged her around the waist. Her large brown eyes looked up and with enthusiasm lighting her smile, she added, “I’ve been practicing my name.”

  That simple thought took root in Julianne’s mind—teach them their names. It was the most important word to each child.

  “Ruby, will you take us out to find our own writing sticks?”

  Ruby’s face was alight with joy as she ran to the door. “Come on. They’re outside.” Then she disappeared through the doorway with eight other children and four mothers following. On the riverbank, Ruby waited for the rest of the students to arrive. With confidence in her voice, she said, “You want one like this.” She held up her stick.

  The group scattered and reconvened, sticks in hand. Ruby reminded Julianne that each stick needed a fine point. Julianne pulled the knife from her boot and prepared the sticks.

  As they walked back to the church, Millie and Mrs. Parker stood near the door.

  “I wondered if I might help,” Mrs. Parker asked.

  Julianne flung her arms around her mother’s shoulders. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “This is a fine work you’ve set your mind to, Julianne.” Her mother’s eyes glistened. “I’ll help you see it started.”

  Millie stood nearby. “I’ve a mind to help you too.”

  With a smile from Julianne, all three women joined the class.

  “Ruby, will you show us your name?” Julianne asked.

  The mothers and children circled around Ruby to watch.

  The young girl squatted down and thought. She looked up at Julianne, who smiled encouragement in her direction. Ruby put the pointed stick to the ground and began to write. In the dust, a skiwampus R took shape. Pride shone brightly on her face as she looked to Julianne.

  “Well done.” Julianne knelt and hugged the girl’s shoulders. “Practice this today.” She wrote the rest of the name as she said the letters. “U-B-Y.”

  Each child and most of the mothers, with sticks in hand, waited patiently for Julianne, Millie, and Mrs. Parker to draw their names in the dirt.

  The students bubbled with excitement at their accomplishment, chatting and showing each other their names. The joy of learning burned in Julianne’s heart. Something as simple as a string of letters captured a name, a person, a friend.

  A quick little fantasy flitted through Julianne’s mind. She turned so her back was to the group and drew a heart in the dirt, then wrote “JP loves HF” in the center. She dashed an arrow through the middle. She felt a little poke of pain across her own heart—Hugh hadn’t come to see her since the brawl.

  Julianne swished her hand across her drawing, sending dust into the air. If she was never meant to have the love of a man, at least she could love her fellowman. She shook her skirts and rejoined the school.

  When the last of the children left, Willie rode up. He jumped down from the wagon and began unloading crates. “Mr. Fontaine asked me to bring these books over.”

  Julianne was torn between the excitement of having books, and sorrow, knowing Hugh decided not to bring them.

  Chapter 17

  Hugh Fontaine

  It had been a week and several days since Julianne stepped off Hugh’s wagon after the cookie brawl, as folks in town now called it. He sat in his small cabin appraising his life. He had one serviceable seat—a three-legged stool. An open wooden box, turned on end, made a table of sorts. He slept on a bedroll near a pot-bellied stove.

  With clarity, Hugh realized, what his home said about him—he was waiting to live. He knew the question should really be waiting for whom? And he knew the answer. His life was as barren as his home.

  He shook his head. What would he say to her? Julianne, you sit on the stool today. No, we don’t have a bed. I’m going to take the money we have and gamble with it. I might come home with less than I took. That wasn’t a life he’d offer her.

  He had one piece of real furniture—a wardrobe filled with the tools of his trade. Wool suits, silk vests, pants shot through with bright-colored threads, frock coats and ties in brilliant colors, top hats, derbies, polished black boots. These trappings served to get him into poker games with high stakes.

  Hugh’s thoughts were a tangled mess. It seemed his dream was always a few large wins away. Just as he thought he had reached his goal, it shifted, and he set his sights higher.

  Then what? The smoke in that dream dried up right there. He hadn’t imagined beyond that. He wondered if this was all he was.

  Hugh looked at the surrounding rough log walls and wooden floors which blurred before his eyes. What he couldn’t see, but he knew were there, were the tubes of stockings filled with twenty-dollar gold pieces buried under the floorboards beneath the pile of wood near the stove. The coins were everything he’d worked for to build his dream.

  Last year, last month, his dream was simple. Three weeks ago, his dream had been replaced with one who had apricot-colored hair and enough optimism to brighten the darkest night. Just when one dream was within sight, another dream eclipsed it.

  Hugh checked the time—just about eleven. If he were to dress fit for church, he could be there after the sermon was over but in time for the service meeting and the lunch.

  He pulled out a black wool suit and white shirt, and began dressing. Lastly, he tucked the ace of spades the angel had given him into his pocket. He’d taken to carrying it around. He often found his hand reaching into his coat pocket to feel the card, and each time, he thought of Julianne. Each time he thought of choices.

  What am I doing?

  Hugh sat on his stool, contemplating his life. He’d earned his wages fairly. He didn’t cheat at cards. He didn’t water down the whiskey he sold. Far as the letter of the law went, he was fine.

  But he wouldn’t want his son growing up to be a saloon owner or as the saloon owner’s son. There was too much risk in that, and many ways to go down a wrong road. His mother had known that. Hugh’s heart swelled at the love she must have had for him to send him away. He finally understood the sacrifice she made.

  Julianne’s parents were likely still there. Would they approve the son of a riverboat madam visiting their daughter?

  The excitement of possibly seeing her again shattered against the shame he felt.

  He tugged the tie from his neck and removed his hat and coat before he returned to sitting on the stool.

  What would he do instead? The way things were right now, he couldn’t move forward with Julianne, and he couldn’t go back to the man he was before. He was nothing—a man completely adrift.

  The morning melted into afternoon, and Hugh sat in his cabin, taking apart his dreams.

  Hugh pulled the ace from his coat pocket. Wretched sorrow filled him. He’d spent a decade trying to become the best card player in Colorado. In the end, he wished he�
��d become an honorable man instead.

  He could no longer look at every glass a miner tipped back as a paycheck, or at a growing pot in the middle of a table as just money. Both were misery and death. How many accidents and brawls were fueled by the liquor he sold? How many men lost their savings and self-respect on the turn of a few cards? His soul shriveled with that knowledge.

  He had another thirty years ahead of him. What’s it going to be? That was the question the cowpoke had asked him at the poker game in Creede. That question was still at work in his thoughts. He’d chosen to walk away that day, but he’d figuratively walked back and forth to that poker table ever since.

  Light began spreading through the cabin from one spot near the table. It swirled and sparkled the way light glints on water, intensifying until the cowpoke stood before him. The hair of his head was white as snow, his clothes glowed white as well, and his six-shooters gleamed like moonlight. The air felt thick and fresh.

  “Time for that decision,” the cowpoke said. “You’ve been deliberating most the day, and the sun’s near gone. Choose ye this day.”

  Hugh felt the weight of this decision. He knew the next words out of his mouth were his future. He would live this decision, and in the end, he would be judged by it.

  Julianne’s face crept into his mind. Each time, he pushed it away. Hugh’s face streamed with tears of bitter disappointment. He didn’t know how she’d gotten into his heart, but she’d slipped in and grown there, and it seemed he would have to shred his heart to pieces to get her out.

  As if the old wrangler knew his thoughts, he asked, “What would you be willing to do to have that little gal in your life?” His wrinkled hand lifted, a bony finger pointing at Hugh. “Who would you be willing to be?”

  Hugh felt his heart crack with the fury of a charge detonated in the mountainside. Pain shot through his limbs, bringing him to his knees. His heart swelled, nearly taking his breath away. Hugh stayed on his knees, reviewing his life, recognizing his choices and how they led to who he was. He could give up part of himself. The parts left would make him a man who could offer himself to Julianne.